


The King of Babylon

by luxpermanet



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxpermanet/pseuds/luxpermanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I just wanted to taste the world."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King of Babylon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 12: Sin/Virtue for the Kradamadness Challenge.

“Kris, Kris! I have found the solution to all your life’s problems.”

“Taylor, it’s seven in the morning!” Kris Allen groaned, burying his face into his pillows. “Can’t this wait until I’ve actually woken up, bathed, and chock full of my very expensive continental breakfast?”

“We’re having ham and cheese croissants again,” Taylor Green said absently, crawling under the covers with Kris. “Hopefully, they give us Special K or granola cereal to go with it instead; Coach Desmond had a row last week before they were feeding us white bread—she doesn’t like her cheerleaders going past her prescribed weight limit. And no, my good news is way too good to not hear right now.”

Kris rolled over to face Taylor. “Okay, I give up. And this had better be good.”

“Tadaaaa!” Taylor said dramatically, waving four obscenely pink things in his face. “Four passes to the hottest spring fling of the year—at Club Babylon, too, no doubt.”

“Dude, they’ll never let us in,” Kris yawned. “None of us look like a day over twenty-one. Forget it.”

“Kristopher Allen, are you underestimating my planning abilities?” Taylor looked slightly taken aback. “For your information, I was up since four AM arranging everything. My older sister Brooke works as a waitress at Babylon and it just so happens that the head of security is trying to woo her. What better way to capture a girl’s heart than by being nice to her ickle underage brother and his ickle underage friends by letting them party for a night? Come on, Kris—you’ve been complaining about having to be the good kid all the time lately. Here’s your chance to give yourself a break. Live a little, baby birdie!”

Kris stared at the ceiling for awhile, letting Taylor’s words sink in. Being a good kid has its perks—in fact, that had been the very reason he had been granted a full scholarship to Fullbright Institute of Excellence, an exclusive private boarding school that was known for only accepting the brightest and the most talented of students. He was at the top of almost all his classes, and served as student council vice-president during his vacant hours. What was left of his spare time was dedicated to glee club and helping out at the on-campus animal shelter with his friends. Lately, though, he had been feeling quite resentful of not having any free time. Most of his peers would be rushing out of class as soon as the last bell rung to change out of their uniforms to make it to the hottest party spots. Taylor would often invite him to come along, but he always declined due to the amount of work he had to do. He could tell his parents and the school administrators were proud of him for being such a model student—and he supposed he was proud of himself as well, to certain extents—but he couldn’t help envying the less-perfect people with considerably lighter burdens to bear. Being Kris Allen was nice and all, but he couldn’t help hating it sometimes.

“Okay, but if our ruse doesn’t work, I’m not even going to try to sneak in.”

“Deal!” Taylor said happily, rolling on top of him like an overeager puppy. “I knew you would see it my way! Gosh, we’re gonna have so much fun partying all night long—”

Allison Iraheta practically flew into the room, followed by a much sleepier David Archuleta. “You could have told me you were snogging! I could have used the extra half hour for sleeping.”

“Get your facts straight, Iraheta,” Taylor snorted. “We weren’t making out. And how the fuck did you get in here, anyway? Girls aren’t allowed in the boys’ dormitories.”

“Tell that to your RA,” Allison said with a snigger. “Paul McDonald has Pia Toscano over here all the freakin’ time. Besides, it’s not like I drop my panties at the slight of naked dicks flapping around—ew much. And if Cowell as much as drags me to Fuller’s office for being here, I’m going to make demands about how illogical it is to not allow women in a place called Evening Primrose Hall.”

“Curse Fuller and his penchant for naming buildings after flowers,” Kris groaned. “Figures we get the gay name while the girls get to say they sleep at Witch Hazel Hall.”

“I’m amazed Alli didn’t wake up the entire floor,” David said with a yawn, curling up next to Kris and Taylor on the bed. “I thought my door was going to fly off its hinges by the way she was banging on it. What’s so important that we had to be here at seven, anyway?”

“We’re gonna party this weekend!” Taylor whooped. “Brooke managed to wrangle me four passes to the spring fling at Babylon Friday night. The other kids are gonna be so jealous!”

“Chico, I am not going to steal someone’s car keys to drive your drunk asses home afterward,” Allison said vehemently. “If you can promise to hold your alcohol, I’ll come along to make sure no one gets caught doing a striptease on top of a table.”

“Babylon?” David asked warily. “Isn’t that a gay club for, uhm, older people?”

“Which is why it’s going to be tons more fun than the parties that people here usually go to,” Taylor said brazenly. “Why bother getting all pumped up to mingle with people you already spend almost twenty-four hours with for seven days a week when we can get out of here and meet the fun kind? It’s not like we’re so stupid that we’re going to end up accepting shit from strangers that could be laced with narcotics or something. I promise we’ll be careful.”

“And in case of emergency, we got our girl Alli here,” Kris grinned at her. “Come on, guys; this will only be fun if all four of us are going. This is going to be my first cool party—and Archie’s, too—so it would be cool if we all go together. What do y’all say?”

“Trust Kris to be the only person in the universe who can win me over with some cute, silly friendship speech,” Allison laughed, holding her arms out to Kris for a hug. “I’m sold. Who knows, maybe I can even bear witness to one of you landing a Prince Charming. I heard that the guys who regularly hit Babylon are hot. Maybe I’ll even run into a nice guy who isn’t interested in dick like the rest of ‘em.”

“I just hope we won’t get into any serious trouble,” David sighed. “I’ve heard all sorts of stories about kids who don’t come back after a night of partying and stuff like that.”

“Arch, we’ll be fine,” Kris assured him. “I wouldn’t have said yes to this if I thought our safety would be compromised. Brooke will be there, and Tay told me she’s good friends with the guy who runs the club security, so I figure we’ll be safe enough. You do trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” David said quickly, hazel eyes wide. “I’m just a little paranoid.”

“And it’s a good thing you are,” Allison remarked. “God knows we always need a voice of reason—you just happen to be ours, David Archuleta. I’m counting on your common sense to save these two from their occasional lack of it.”

“Hey!” Taylor objected. “I have common sense! I wouldn’t have been accepted into this school if I didn’t have a smidgen of it. Plus, I come up with all these great ideas for fun stuff to do.”

“And I have more common sense than any of you right now because we are going to run late for breakfast,” Kris declared. “If you’ll all excuse me for a few minutes, I need to shower.”

“I’ll go on down and save us a table,” David offered. “Alli, you should get back to Witch Hazel before Miss Abdul catches you on the other side of the fence.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Allison said dismissively. “I’ll just say I got up early and waited for you guys to come down for breakfast. It’s not like they ban estrogen from entering the dormitory lobby, anyway.”

“Want me to wait for you?” Taylor asked Kris. “Or I could get in with you and scrub your back.”

“Not today, Tay-Tay.” Kris stuck his tongue out at him. “Go on ahead with Archie and Alli, text me where we’re eating and I will come find you.”

“Later, little birdie.” Taylor pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose before leaving the room.

Groaning, Kris rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. Most of the time, he liked to indulge a little in the luxuries the school made available to them. When he had the liberty of an extra hour, he would fill the tub with bubble bath mix and soak until he felt like a giant prune. But during the mornings, he almost always had to settle for a five-minute shower so he could use the remaining thirty minutes to put on his carefully-pressed uniform and try to flatten his hair (a futile effort, in all honesty).

“I hate mornings,” he grumbled to his reflection in the mirror. “Why can’t we have breakfast at nine instead of at bloody seven in the morning?”

The chirping of his phone interrupted his inner monologue, indicating a text message from Taylor. He took one last glance at his reflection before crossing the room to retrieve his phone and school briefcase.

 _‘Sun room day 2day. Table by the doors—u can’t miss it. XOXO, T.’_

At least they picked a nice place for breakfast. Kris liked the Sun Room; it was bright and cheery with an excellent view of the orchid garden outside. Maybe he would be able to go through his chemistry homework one last time before turning it in at nine.

“Top of the morning, Allen!” James Durbin came hurtling down the hallway. “Have you seen Paul, Casey or Fano? None of ‘em idiots had the conscience to wake me up for morning grub.”

“They’re all probably at Almond Blossom getting breakfast,” Kris replied. “I don’t know where they’re eating, though; you should probably text one of them.”

“Reasonable,” James agreed. “Anyway, thanks for that, man. Hope you have a good day.”

Kris grinned wryly and shook his head as he made his way out of Evening Primrose Hall to the Sun Room, a large wood-paneled glass house on top of a small hill. Students were free to choose where they wanted to have their meals, and the Sun Room was almost always their place of preference. Sometimes, they would eat at Almond Blossom Dining Hall, but Kris liked getting his dose of the morning sunshine before confining himself within the four walls of his classroom for the rest of the day.

“Kris!” Allison waved him over. “Come quick before Katy O’Connell spots you and asks you to sit with her. I saved you half of my blueberry muffin.”

“For a girl with dozens of straight A’s to her name, O’Connell is pretty thick when it comes to Kris’ sexuality,” Taylor observed. “He told some lie about a boy being his first kiss so she’d get off his case. Sure it was harmless and part of our normal day-to-day tomfoolery for campus survival, but she should get the message before she really gets her heart broken.”

“Let’s give her a riddle to solve!” Allison said excitedly. “In a table of four people, two are gay, one is straight and one swings both ways. Based on sound logic and concrete evidence, who is what?”

“You’re kind of selfish at giving clues,” David remarked. “No one outside our social circle would ever be able to solve that—not unless they know where to look.”

“Giving away too many clues takes away the fun,” Allison declared. “Now, on the subject of fun, I have decided that we need to shop for clothes to wear to Babylon. Taylor and I are pretty much safe in the clubbing attire department, but Kris and Archie? Uh-uh.”

“I am not going to wear that glittery tank top you made me try on last week!” Kris said hotly. “Can’t I just go in jeans, a shirt and my leather jacket?”

“It depends on the sizes of the things you’re throwing on,” Taylor replied. “If we’re talking about tightass jeans and a tight white Henley plus your beat-up leather jacket, then we’re good to go. You’ve been blessed with the perkiest ass and the hottest pecs here at Fullbright, so I say we play your assets up to your advantage and get you laid. Arch, the same goes for you—though I’m not too sure about the getting laid part; you’re not a horny slut like Princess Kris here.”

“Just because I find sex fascinating doesn’t mean I’m a horny slut,” Kris argued. “For your information, the farthest I have gotten is a drunken hand job from Taylor here.”

“I, uhm, think I’ll pass on the sex,” David said warily. “I wouldn’t want to wake up naked in an unfamiliar bed next to an unfamiliar man. I daresay that would be my greatest nightmare.”

“That sounds like the opening scene of a slasher flick,” Allison commented. “We can use it as a concept for our short film project in English class. I bet we can totally ask Katy to play the part of the token blonde who gets killed in the most gruesome way ever.”

“Thanks a lot, Alli,” Taylor groaned, pushing the ketchup away from his plate. “I was just about to dump this all over my croissant when you ever so kindly changed my mind.”

Kris was quick to change the subject. “What are your schedules for today? I have double-period chemistry from nine-thirty to eleven-thirty under Tyler. After lunch, I have world history, music, language arts and a student council meeting lined up.”

Unlike most high schools, Fullbright operated on a collegiate system. Instead of pre-enrolling forty or so students as one section, the administration allowed students to choose their own sections for the specified subjects on their lists that particular term. During the opening assembly for Kris’ batch in his freshman year, Fuller had said something about teaching them how to be responsible for their choices, hence the explanation for the oddly mature treatment of the students at the academy. It never bothered Kris in the least; he liked having the freedom to choose his classes.

“Same schedule, as always,” Taylor said with a smirk. “You’re stuck with me, Allen.”

“I have geometry and trigonometry with Archie in the morning, but we have the same classes after lunch,” Allison replied. “You gotta save us seats for world history; we got Cowell for trig and he never dismisses his classes early—he believes in starting on time and ending exactly on time.”

“We all have PE together tomorrow morning, right?” David asked hopefully. “I don’t want to have to listen to Jackson say that we’re in it to win it all the time by my lonesome.”

“Don’t even remind me,” Allison said dryly. “I had him last year, and it was horrible. James and Paul had this tally that stretched all the way through an eighth of their notebooks.”

“Let’s just hope he doesn’t sign up for a varsity team coaching job,” Taylor chuckled. “Being told that you’re ‘in it to win it’ at random intervals of a game isn’t very inspiring.”

“I suggest you worry about yourself before school varsity, Mister Green,” Simon Cowell said plaintively. “Class begins in five minutes, and I believe that’s exactly the right amount of time you need to make it to the chemistry lab from here. But since you have Tyler for this particular course, you will be pardoned for your neglect of proper time management—a certain privilege you will be unable to enjoy in my classes.”

Nodding his head politely, Kris dabbed at his lips with a napkin and reached for his briefcase, motioning for Taylor to follow suit. He waved goodbye to Allison and David, who merely returned the gesture, both too afraid to open their mouths to speak. In absolute, perfect silence, Kris and Taylor made their way down the hill, hardly daring to breathe lest they be chastised for it.

“Simon Cowell,” Taylor muttered once they were out of earshot. “He’s the best we’ve got at this school, but we are, nonetheless, terrified of his presence.”

“At least we’ve got two hours with Tyler,” Kris said with a wry smile. “Hopefully, we’ll be laughing so hard we won’t know when to stop.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Screw this assignment!” Allison said loudly, snapping her notebook shut. “I’ll find someone to copy off tomorrow morning. For now, I really need a break.”

“We should go out for our pre-Babylon shopping trip already,” Taylor suggested, eyes bright with mirth. “I’m halfway done with my world history essay, and my brain really needs a rest. Charlemagne and his empire are cool and all, but I’d much rather have Kris try on clothes.”

“I was hoping you would have forgotten that,” Kris groaned. “Guys, it’s just a party—it’s not like anyone is going to be paying attention to me and what I’m wearing.”

“Honey, they’re going to mentally undress you,” Taylor pointed out. “We should at least give them something fun to pretend to take off.”

“At least you and I will suffer together, Kris,” David said with a sigh, retrieving his pocketbook from his briefcase. “We’re only letting them dress us up because we love them.”

“And we’re dressing you up because we love you!” Taylor said cheerfully, wrapping his arms around David in a tight hug. “Relax; it’s going to be really fun. I promise we won’t go too overboard.”

“I’m counting on you to stick to that promise,” Kris warned him. “Nothing with holes that show what’s supposed to be covered and nothing too glittery, deal?”

“Deal,” Allison agreed. “Now, let’s go; I’m going to need a Big Mac from McD’s before we begin our adventure. Can you imagine shopping on an empty stomach? No, I can’t.”

Kris dutifully trailed after Taylor and Allison, David keeping in pace with him. He could have very well done away with attending the party in whatever clothes he had with him, but Taylor and Allison had looked so excited at the prospect of taking them out that he did not have the heart to refuse.

“Where exactly are we going, anyway?” he asked. “I hope it’s nowhere too far; as much as I want to develop a bit of a bad boy streak, we still have school tomorrow and quite a bit of homework to finish.”

“Nowhere far,” Taylor assured him. “We’re heading straight for Ross Park because it’s the closest to the school. We’re not looking for anything too wild, so generic department store shopping will do for now. When we’re older and have fat paychecks, we can start splurging.”

“Even then, I don’t think I’ll ever be walking into a Louis Vuitton outlet to buy myself a bag,” Kris said with a laugh. “I just can’t picture myself caring very much for fashion.”

“With a face and a body like yours, I don’t blame you,” Taylor said lightly, a lascivious smirk forming on his lips. “You can get away with anything, man—I trust Babylon will be good for ya.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Kris replied, his tone laced with amusement. “As of now, I choose to remain a skeptic—I’m still the Kris Allen you know and love, after all.”

“The one who lives on proof,” Allison winked at him. “I always keep that in mind.”

Ross Park Mall was a ten-minute cab ride from the school grounds. As per tradition, the four of them would split the fare among themselves going to and heading back from wherever their destination lay. Because it was a weeknight, traffic wasn’t much of a hassle, and the mall crowd was far thinner than what they were used to during the weekends. As soon as Allison had her burger (the rest of them had been unable to resist the smell of McDonald’s French fries), they had set out to peruse the clothing racks in various boutiques to come up with suitable clothes for Kris and David.

“Are you sure you’d never set foot outside in these?” Allison asked with a giggle, holding out a pair of sequined leggings. “They’d look amazing on your thighs, Kris.”

“They’d look much better on you, Alli,” Kris said with a laugh. “Sequins and I don’t really get on too well with each other—I’ll agree to a nice shirt, though.”

“There’s a shirt that says ‘SHAMLESS HUSSY’ in bold, glittering letters!” Taylor announced. “Kris, I am buying this for you and giving it to you for your birthday.”

“Isn’t that a bit too lewd?” David poked his head out of the dressing room. “It calls for a lot of unwanted attention, if you ask me. I mean, it’s pretty and all…but the words.”

“Kris can wear it to bed,” Taylor said with a grin. “You know, when he’s in a bed with a hot, red-blooded male who just can’t wait to ravish him.”

“Bollocks,” Kris grumbled, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Perhaps you’ll get off my case if I try on something. Would this work for Babylon?”

“Amigo, were you even looking when you grabbed that from the rack?” Allison asked, stifling her giggles. “I’m sure that glittery tube top would be highly appropriate for girls to wear at clubs, but I don’t think it would look very flattering on you. How about these jeans, though? They look cute.”

Kris critically eyed the pair she was holding up for him to see. They looked just like any regular pair of jeans except for the studs scattered across the waistband and the rips at the knees. Also, they looked much tighter than any other pair of pants Kris had ever owned.

“…are those even going to fit me?”

“They’re going to be the perfect fit,” Allison insisted. “They’ll hug your ass nicely and—oh my god, Archie. You look amazing! I told you red was going to be a good color on you.”

She had selected a pair of black jeans and a tight blood red v-necked shirt for David, insisting that he would look great in them. Taylor had gone off to the accessory counter for some silver necklaces and cuffs to accessorize him with. As soon as Allison had found a vintage leather jacket to go with the ensemble, she pronounced him perfect and ran off with him to pay for the purchases.

Kris’ clothing dilemma, however, was another story.

“I think you should wear this.” Taylor held out a leather zip-up vest. “It would look really great with the jeans Alli picked out for ya. Then you can wear ‘em with the boots your Mum got you for Christmas.”

“A leather vest,” Kris said dumbly, eyeing it with suspicion. “Won’t I look like some guy at a Chippendale’s show in it?”

“It’s perfect for the bad boy image you want to cook up,” Taylor smirked. “Come on, buddy; just give it a try. I promise I’ll find you something else if you don’t like it.”

Glaring at him, Kris took the garments from Taylor and headed into the cubicle David had just vacated. He stared disdainfully at the clothes before ridding himself of his uniform—a major chore, in his opinion. As soon as he had folded his tie, he reached for the jeans and squeezed into them, grunting in frustration at feeling like vanilla cream stuffed in between two Oreo cookie halves.

“Still alive in there, Allen?” Taylor asked cheekily.

“Barely,” Kris grunted, struggling to button his fly. “I can’t imagine how people breathe in this—oof! And the vest looks as if it’s going to be just as tight.”

“Because it is,” Taylor said pompously. “We can’t have you running around in clothes that make you look like a hanger. Now, put on that vest and let me see!”

Sighing, Kris slid his arms through the holes and zipped it up, trying to ignore how good the leather felt sliding against his heated skin. He had never owned anything quite like this before, and it made him think of the good little private school boys hiding corsets and crotchless thongs underneath mounds of oxford shirts and practical black slacks.

“Looks like I’ve turned into one of them,” he whispered, glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

“Did you say something?” Taylor asked. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“No,” Kris lied, unlocking the cubicle door. “Would you care to tell me what you think, though?”

Taylor looked impressed. “Honey, I do believe you’re going to give the dancers at that club a run for their money. Look at you, all dolled up and sexy. Why, no one would think you’re a Fullbright scholar at all! Alli, Archie! You have got to see this.”

“I’m amazed you managed to talk him into putting those on!” Allison laughed. “Feeling brave, Kris?”

“I just thought I’d try something different for once,” Kris shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “You think this will get me a good number of free drinks?”

“I don’t think you’ll be getting just a few, Kris,” David remarked, eyes wide and earnest. “You’ll probably end up with half the club’s numbers in your hands; you look great in that outfit.”

“See?” Taylor chuckled. “Even our little saint thinks you look ravishing! Come; let us pay for that outfit and grab some dinner before heading back.”

“Remember your homework,” Kris said teasingly as he re-entered the cubicle to put on his uniform. “I’m not going to stay up ‘til the wee hours of the morning tilling the soil for you.”

“At least check my essay for me?” Taylor begged him.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded. “Just make sure you finish it by nine-thirty so I can look at it before I go to bed; I can’t afford to sleep through Cowell’s class tomorrow—we have him right after PE.”

“Don’t even remind me,” Allison growled. “If he says ‘in it to win it’ as soon as he walks into the classroom, I’m going to find a varsity team to sign up for so I don’t have to take PE.”

Kris let their conversation drift over his head as he secured his tie around his neck, knotting it precisely into the full Windsor he was known for using. It was quite relieving to feel like his old self again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Friday had flown by quickly—much quicker than Kris had expected it to. His morning had begun with breakfast and two grueling hours of physical education. Thankfully, they had to take physical fitness tests before moving on to actual sports, so Randy Jackson didn’t have much to say. Aside from students wheezing and falling over at the end of the obstacle course, there had been nothing else to see. Trigonometry had been much worse; Cowell had them bent over their books answering exercises until the end of the period. Fortunately, their last class for the week had been art with Ellen DeGeneres, who was unbelievably nice and hilarious enough to crack jokes while they slaved over their hopeless paper-mache projects. Kris’ vase had turned into something reminiscent of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but Miss DeGeneres had found it very much to her liking and ended up giving him full marks for originality. However, the moment he had been dreading most was now upon him: Babylon.

“This is insane,” he muttered, gaping at the long queue in front of the club. “Are you telling me that all these people are going to magically cram themselves into that building? Bollocks!”

“Well, it is the biggest spring fling of the season,” Allison pointed out. “And I’m glad everyone’s lining up like good citizens; just imagine what could have happened if they left us to our own devices. I’ve heard of incidents where people died in stampedes.”

“Way to be morbid at a time like this,” David huffed. “Gosh, I hope they let us in soon; it’s going to be rather chilly in awhile.”

“I just hope we manage to find Brooke before things get wild,” Taylor said. “She told me she reserved a table for us by the bar so her friend would be able to look after us. Fucking babysitters; we don’t need ‘em. We sure as hell can take care of ourselves.”

“I, for one, like the idea of a responsible adult looking after us,” Allison declared. “We don’t know where we’re going and what we’re in for, Taylor. It’s best to have someone we can trust nearby.”

“Smart girl,” Kris grinned. “Glad you’re with us, Alli.”

“Oh, the line’s moving!” David exclaimed, standing on his tiptoes to check what was going on by the entrance. “The big guy by the doors is checking people’s invites, bags and issuing stamps.”

“If he says we’re underage, I’m yelling for his boss,” Taylor said impishly. “In the meantime, try to look cooler than everyone else around here.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” Allison snorted. “The blokes in line are already eyeing Kris like he’s the dessert that comes after dessert. This had better be worth it, Taylor Green.”

“Oh, it’s going to be better than worth it,” Taylor said with a devilish smirk. “This is going to be fun.”

The line quickly moved forward, and Kris eventually found himself face-to-face with a large, imposing man that took up nearly two-thirds of the doorway. Swallowing nervously, he held out his invitation, praying that they wouldn’t be sent home because they looked well under twenty-one.

“Brooke’s little brother, right?” The bouncer eyed Taylor suspiciously.

“Yes,” Taylor replied. “Our passes are legit and we’ve settled the age issue with your chief. Also, Brooke is perfectly legal and will provide the non-parental-but-adult-anyway supervision we won’t really need.”

“Way to sound responsible, Taylor,” Allison grumbled from behind him. “What he’s saying, sir, is that we understand the consequences of attending this party as underage kids, and we promise that whether drunk or sober, we will be perfectly responsible for our own safety.”

“You’re lucky to have her in your group, kid,” the bouncer conceded, stepping aside to let them pass through. “Otherwise, you would have gotten the boot five seconds ago. Enjoy.”

Kris had never seen anything quite like Babylon. It was reminiscent of a large, glittery steel box with a high ceiling and a square catwalk on the makeshift second level. A large disco ball hung from the ceiling, catching the lights and reflecting them onto the walls in colorful splashes of pinks, blues and whites. What had caught his attention most, though, were the scantily-clad twinks gyrating on poles and in cages up on the dais, tucking dollar bills into their briefs at every opportunity. He also noticed that the crowd was predominantly male, most of which were in various states of undress and playing tonsil hockey or pin-the-dick-on-the-twink on the dance floor or in darkened booths.

“This is the shit!” he heard Taylor whisper from behind him. “I mean, I knew we weren’t headed anywhere rated PG, but…holy smokes, guys.”

“Can we go to our table now?” David asked hastily. “I think someone just grabbed my ass.”

“Yeah, let’s,” Taylor agreed. “I did tell Brooke we’d say hi as soon as they let us in.”

Kris followed his friends at a slower pace, taking time to properly inhale his new surroundings. Yes, he was afraid, but curiosity would almost always win out when he pit one against the other. Never in his life had he felt like a peahen in a den of peacocks, his plain old self being eaten up by the hundreds of eyes on the beautiful people’s tails. He was all too aware of their eyes and their hands, brushing against both bared and exposed skin, trying to insinuate something with his sex.

It was both terrible and fascinating at the same time.

“Looks like y’all got in alright.” Brooke Wendle had an arm around Taylor’s shoulder. “Here’s your corner table, as promised. I can’t guarantee that you’ll be free from ridiculous pick-up lines and invitations for shag, but you’ll be much better here than anywhere else in this place. I’m going to have to move around and take people’s orders, so I won’t be able to check on you as much as I’d like to. Cook here, though, offered to keep a close watch on you from the bar. Cook, these are Taylor, Kris, Allison and David—be a dear and make sure they don’t die, won’t you? Crap, I really should be going back to work now.”

“Go,” Taylor nudged her. “We’ll be fine.”

The handsome, scruffy-looking bartender grinned at them from his post, earning an impressed giggle from David as he expertly slid a tray of sickeningly colorful drinks to the customers waiting at the other end of the bar. “Impressive, I know. Took me ages to learn the art, though—I was breaking everything in my path for the first two weeks. I’m David, by the way, but everyone calls me Cook.”

“I’m a David, too!” Kris’ own friend blurted out, coloring slightly. “But there are too many Davids around, so, uhm, everyone calls me Archie.”

“Which is also why everyone calls me Cook,” Cook said with a wink. “Truth be told, I was surprised when Brooke told me she decided to invite her kid brother and his friends along for the spring fling. I thought she was kidding for awhile; underage teens don’t usually get invited in. We’ve had tons of kids who tried to toe the line, but Barry the bouncer is as strict as fuck, and it almost never works. The kids who manage to sneak in? I’m sure they’re legends by now.”

“We’re here legally, though,” Taylor announced. “And since we have permission—well, from ourselves and from Brooke and other important people—I think we should have a drink to celebrate.”

“Nothing too strong,” Allison advised sagely. “I refuse to carry even one drunk person back to the dorms. I may have more muscle on me than it looks, but you all should learn how to save face when necessary.”

“She’s got a good point,” Cook remarked, presenting them with a tray of pre-mixed cocktails in shot glasses. “It’s cool to drink and show the world that you can, but it’s also cool to be able to walk out of Babylon without hanging like a dead cat over your smart lady friend’s shoulder.”

“I like you,” Allison said stoutly. “I am keeping you and marrying you when I’m older.”

“Sweetheart, if I were into the fairer sex, I would have gladly said yes,” Cook said with a smirk. “Sadly, like most of the gentlemen in your vicinity, I am very much into blokes.”

Allison was not to be deterred. “Then you can marry one of them instead! That way, I can still see you whenever there’s a get-together, and we can talk like the smart, kickass people we are.”

“I wouldn’t mind marrying Archie here,” Cook sent a roguish wink his way, causing the boy to blush furiously. “I’ve never laid my eyes on anyone quite as fetching as you.”

While Cook flirted with Archie and Allison and Taylor looked on, Kris was taking glass after glass from the tray, liking the pleasant burn that settled in his belly. It was a secret he would never share with anyone, but he found himself envious of the men around him, shameless enough to get up there and dance or let their partners fuck them against the wall. Self-control was an art that he had long mastered; he found it easy to beat down the monster inside of him, even if it would gnash its teeth and sinks its fangs into his skin in an attempt to lure him out to play. He often found himself itching to rip off the shackles he had crafted for himself, but self-control always won out in the end.

“Well, tonight’s not the night for that,” he mumbled, knocking back one more shot before leaving the safety of his seat to slip into the throng of gyrating men.

“I’m going after him!” He heard Taylor yell, “He’s a bit of a live wire, so someone has to look after him. Kristopher, wait the fuck up! You’ve had way too much to drink.”

“I’m fine, Tay,” he said dazedly. “I just want to have a bit of fun, that’s all.”

“Then dance with me!” Taylor’s eyes were bright with mischief. “Let’s give these older men a show that will knock their socks off!”

Laughing, Kris allowed himself to be led to the dancefloor, feeling worry-free and utterly liberated. He wound his arms around Taylor’s neck and writhed against him, aware of the hungry looks people were throwing their way. Though he was a virgin in terms of the fact that he had never had sex, he still stocked up on his fair share of gay porn, and he was quite certain that he and Taylor looked like live twink porn at the very moment.

“Good job, Allen,” Taylor grinned, licking the shell of his ear. “Half the club wishes they were fucking us right now; I didn’t think you’d have it in you to lose control.”

“It’s the alcohol talking, Tay,” Kris chuckled throatily. “That, and my morals have all flown out the window. You were right; I really do need to let loose once in awhile. Heck, I feel great!”

“Next time we do the groceries, I am sneaking a bottle of vodka into our room,” Taylor said gleefully. “During weekends like this, we will dance and drink like nobody’s watching!”

Kris was about to reply when he felt a gloved hand grip his shoulder. He turned slightly and came face-to-face with a slight, fine-featured man. He was dress in black from head to toe, and his think blond hair fell carelessly over a kohl-lined eye. Despite all the dark makeup, Kris found him to be eerily beautiful.

“I think you had best come with me,” he said in a low voice, closing his palm over Kris’ wrist. “His Royal Perverted Highness may find you suitable to his tastes.”

Taylor instantly came to Kris’ defense. “No way, man. He’s underage—heck, we’re both underage. If you drag him off to the King, his folks would never forgive me.”

“That, young man, is for neither of us to decide,” the blond said coolly. “I know what the King likes, and as long as you’re in his territory, you go by his rules.”

“Who the heck is this ‘King’ you’re both talking about?” Kris demanded. “Is there something you forgot to tell me, Tay? Last time I heard, there was no King mentioned in any of our conversations.”

The blond’s lips quirked up into a slight smile. “Perhaps you’d like to meet him, then?”

“…I think I would like that.” Kris exhaled. “I’d like that very much.”

“If His Highness declines your friend’s company, I’ll be sending him straight back into your arms,” the blond assured Taylor. “Though, knowing Adam, he won’t say no to this one.”

He crooked a finger of Kris, who mouthed an apology to Taylor before following the mysterious blond man up the stairs that led to the second-level catwalk. It was only when they were halfway around that Kris noticed the red velvet drapes that looked completely out of place amidst all the steel and chrome.

“Adam took one look at the steel door and blanched in disgust,” the blond suddenly said, as if reading Kris’ mind. “He told the architect he refused to feel like he was sitting in a refrigerator, so the poor woman had no choice but to procure the curtains for him. Anyway, follow me.”

He drew the curtains aside and allowed Kris to pass before snapping them shut once more. The room’s interior resembled something akin to a Dita Von Teese dressing room or a Moulin Rouge boudoir. Dozens of lit candles illuminated the oddly circular room, casting shadows on the face of the stately-looking man perched on the Turkish divan by the fireplace. He was long-legged and terribly handsome, with blue-streaked ebon hair and pale blue-grey eyes.

He addressed Kris’ companion. “Brought me a present, Tommy?”

“Obviously,” Tommy glared at him. “You asked, and I complied. You’ve been behaving yourself lately, so I thought you deserved someone suited to your tastes for once.”

“He’s pretty,” the King noted, eyeing Kris like a scientist bent over a microscope. “Very pretty, indeed. He looks terribly young, though—are you sure he’s of legal age?”

“He is right here,” Kris said frostily. “And no, I am not of legal age. I am, however, here of my own free will. I don’t know much about you or this so-called kingdom of yours, but I am quite curious.”

“Ooh, he’s got moxie,” the slim, chestnut-eyed man on the King’s right chirped. “He’s the first person to enter these chambers who isn’t groveling at your feet in fear or crawling on all fours like a cheap slut begging to be fucked. I think I like him already, Adam.”

“But are you sure he won’t bite too hard?” A pale, dark-haired woman who looked like she just stepped out of the pages of one of Kris’ old Buffy novelizations emerged from behind another curtain. “You might end up dangling from his string instead of the other way around.”

“Brad, Cam, please.” The King—Adam—held his hand up to placate them. “I appreciate the concern for my welfare, but do allow me the pleasure of conversing with him before I decide to send him away. I, for one, think that he is worthy of my company. You don’t run into people who possess beauty, brains and brawn at clubs. Also, I trust Tommy’s judgment.”

“Glad to see you’re throwing some appreciation my way,” Tommy smirked. “I had a feeling you would be intrigued by this one.”

“You know me too well,” Adam said softly, shifting his attention back to Kris. “Your name, darling?”

“Kris Allen, sir,” Kris replied civilly. “And I suppose you are the King they like to talk about.”

“Yes, but that is just a silly nickname,” Adam said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “My proper name is Adam Lambert, and I am not a royal in any means whatsoever. These two interlopers—Tommy is excused from the label since he brought you to me—are my friends Bradley Bell and Camila Grey.”

“I’d shake hands, but this really isn’t a good time,” Kris mumbled. “I’m terribly confused, you see.”

“Basically, you’re the prime candidate to be Adam’s fuck buddy for the night,” the woman named Cam replied. “It’s Tommy’s duty to pick out boys he feels Adam might like from the club crowd, and if Adam chooses to bed that particular person, all ends well for everybody.”

“Are you all out of your minds?” Kris gasped. “I’m only seventeen! And a virgin at that, too.”

He felt like a pawn in the middle of a chess game with no hopes of getting the Black King to throw his crown at his feet. Tommy, cunning and brave, served as his Knight. Brad, witty and perceptive, played the role of the Bishop, while the lady Camila, cool-headed and skeptical, filled the position of Rook perfectly.

It belatedly occurred to Kris that Lambert had no Queen.

“What if I say no?” he asked quietly.

“You’d actually have the gall to say no to the King?” Brad huffed out a laugh. “This is, indeed, a first. Can we stick around for the negotiations, pretty please?”

“Not this time,” Adam replied. “I’d like to talk to him alone. Tommy, I trust you not to let anyone come in. Kris, sweetheart, follow me.”

Kris watched Tommy lift the curtain to allow Brad and Cam to leave before following Adam through the curtain where Cam had emerged from earlier. The smaller room—the inner sanctum, Kris thought—was a lot like the outer area in terms of motif, but housed a bed and a roaring fireplace instead.

“I’m not taking my clothes off!” he said hotly.

“Oh, but who said you were?” Adam asked with a devilish smirk, unbuttoning the trench coat he was wearing and letting it slide to the carpeted floor. “I brought you here to watch me take off mine.”

“What the fuck?” Kris exclaimed, alarmed. “I’m getting the fuck out of here, man!”

“Leave if you like,” Adam said, shucking his shirt ever so casually. “The door’s open, you know. I don’t hold people in against their wills.”

Kris’ sweaty palms gripped the sheets tightly, sucking in a breath as he watched the galaxies of freckles on Adam’s bare skin dance in the firelight as he moved, shamelessly baring his form to Kris as he dropped articles of clothing around the room. Smirking at Kris, Adam went on ahead and slipped out of his briefs, exposing his hard, thick cock to the boy’s gaze. Kris couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from Adam’s cock, large and throbbing with pre-come leaking from the tip. Had he been hard for Kris all this time?

“Do you want to touch it?” he asked, leaning against the bedpost, fisting his dick languidly. “I know that look on your face; you want to wrap your pretty pink lips around my cock and let me fuck your mouth. You can do that, you know? And many other things, too, as long as you stay.”

“…I—I can’t,” Kris murmured. “But fuck, your cock.”

Adam grinned. "That's what they all say when they see it, baby."

He whimpered as the words escaped his lips, feeling a wetness begin to pool in his own briefs. Beside him, Adam was moaning softly, jerking himself with a little more gusto to keep Kris focused on him.

“Time’s up, Princess,” he said darkly. “So, are you coming or going? Or coming and then going? Or perhaps coming and staying?”

Kris’ involuntary response was to lean over and suck the head of Adam’s cock into his mouth.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On a typical Friday night, Kris could usually be found bent over a desk, furiously scribbling notes into the margins of his readings. He had a bit of an obsession with making sure he was more than prepared for the day’s lessons; he almost always had his hand in the air because he had a ready answer to the question everyone else knew nothing about. Because he was such a model student, the rest of his peers looked up to him, ready to treat him with the respect they felt he deserved.

He couldn’t help but wonder what they would think if they saw him now, naked with his legs spread wide on the bed of a much older man, coming dangerously close to losing the v-card.

“Are you seriously telling me you have never gotten past the hand job stage?” Adam asked incredulously, stroking Kris’ thighs. “People I’ve slept with have at least gotten their cocks sucked.”

“Well, people you’ve slept with aren’t usually virgins,” Kris retorted. “Look, I don’t know much of anything when it comes to sex, okay? Gay porn didn’t get me very far.”

“You’re acquainted with the terms at least, I expect?” Adam’s fist curled around his cock. “Stuff like blowjobs, rimming, and actual anal sex?”

“I’m not a child!” Kris scowled, turning away from him. “And I’m not so stupid as to not know anything about sex. I’ve done my research, Highness.”

“I just want to make it good for you,” Adam placated him, brushing a kiss over his forehead. “And I will, if you just let me. You utter your words so confidently, yet I can feel your skin quivering beneath my touch. Don’t be so scared, love; I would never hurt you.”

Kris closed his eyes and buried his face into the pillow, too unused to any form of romantic affection. He knew Adam was only doing it for the sake of bedside manner and had no real intentions of courting him as soon as this little tryst was over. Maybe he should have just stayed with his friends instead of following Tommy; there would have been less emotional baggage that way.

“You know, I have never had anybody who could manage to keep their eyes off my dick in this bed before,” Adam said suddenly. “Look, if you really don’t want to, I won’t force you.”

“I suck at being a bad boy,” Kris whined. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that—”

The very loud ringing of Adam’s cell phone interrupted their conversation. Kris couldn’t tell if he was grateful or regretful of it. Adam, though, was positively irked. “Mother of fuck, these bastards couldn’t have called at a time when I was less occupied. You alright with me taking this?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Kris replied, biting his lip. “Go right ahead.”

“Fuck you for being so pretty,” Adam grumbled, pinching his buttocks before grabbing his phone. “What do you want, Tommy? I am obviously very busy right now.”

Kris tried very hard not to look like he was straining to catch what was going on at the other end of the line, but the exasperated expression on Adam’s face and the words they were exchanging were enough to give him the idea that something had gone quite wrong somewhere.

“I’ll be right downstairs,” Adam finally said, reaching for his discarded jeans. “Be grateful this is serious; I wouldn’t have agreed to come down in the first place if it wasn’t.”

Kris rolled over to face him. “What’s up? You sound terribly annoyed.”

“I’m terribly annoyed because I was about to educate a young virgin in the ways of gay sex when my friend here steals the opportunity from me,” Adam scowled as he began to pull on the rest of his clothes. “There’s some fucker downstairs making a big racket about how my assistant manager is fucking his wife. Normally, they can deal with shit like this themselves, but when the chaos swings towards the I’m-calling-my-lawyer way, I gotta drop everything and fix things.”

“I’ll come along,” Kris offered, getting up to throw on his discarded clothes. “I’ve never seen a legal dispute in a bar before.”

“There are a lot of things you haven’t seen before, love,” Adam smirked, dropping a kiss on his brow. “Wear this, won’t you? People will start groping you if you wear that tiny excuse for a vest again.”

Grinning, Kris pulled Adam’s shirt over his head, briefly stopping to admire his supposed virtue defiler’s bare freckled chest under the trench coat and tangled necklaces before following him out of the secret society’s headquarters. With Adam’s arm around him, he realized that the others were less inclined to even attempt to touch him; Adam Lambert commanded a certain respect among his subjects, and Kris was certain a whole lot of them even feared him.

“Where are we headed?” Kris wanted to know.

“My actual office,” Adam replied grimly. “Owning a club means dealing with a lot of matters, so I figured I’d need to have a place that would help keep the professional front.”

“Even when you’re practically half-naked?” Kris scoffed.

“Even then,” Adam said, escorting him through a paneled wood door near the bar area. “Ah, I see the cavalry has been brought in. Good, the plaintiff won’t be stupid enough to brandish a knife at any of us given the number of people present in this room.”

Kris watched in amusement as Adam pulled out the swivel chair from under the desk with a booted foot and plopped down in it, looking both very professional and very bored. The man sitting across from him—most likely the complainant—had the gall to guffaw at the sight of him.

“Too gay for you, sweetheart?” Adam asked, feigning a clearly disguised yawn. “You could do with a few less angry lines and a lot more rhinestones, if you ask me.”

“I was just expecting the infamous King to be a lot more fearsome, that’s all,” the man said with a snicker. “Glitter and feathers don’t really scare me, man.”

“What a prat,” Kris heard Cam mutter from across the room. “If there’s something I can’t stand, it’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to shut his trap. Mister Prewett, you will treat the King with utmost respect and you will adhere to that rule as long as you are in his presence.”

“Listen, lady,” Prewett glared at her. “I’m not going to play nice with some guy who lets his staff get away with framing innocent folk! I’m telling you, Andrew de Roberts is fucking my wife.”

“That is by mere word of mouth, good sir,” Adam replied evenly. “Andrew has been in my employment for nearly two years now, and I can assure you that he can’t get his dick up for girls.”

“Dude, I have a boyfriend,” a tall sandy-haired man next to Cam scoffed. “Feel free to ask the clientele; we smooch in public all the fucking time. Just because I was being nice to your missus when she was clearly depressed doesn’t mean I’m fucking her. If you’re asking me, she deserves better than you.”

“People saw you laying her on the bed once!” Prewett insisted, his face so red it reminded Kris of an overgrown tomato. “Our neighbor said she caught you laying Kathryn on the bed late one night, and she had her fucking arms around you to boot! Explain that.”

“I took her home, okay?” Andrew scowled. “She was very, very drunk and was unable to stand on her own two feet. I would be a fucking bastard if I left her asleep on the table for the night, so I drove and carried her home. You can’t expect me to just leave a woman lying on her living room sofa!”

“Liar,” Prewett accused him. “Then why does she come back here to talk to you all the fucking time? Clients don’t usually spend time with the assistant manager of a gay club.”

“That’s because I referred her to my cousin who works as a marriage counselor,” Andrew rolled his eyes. “You should join her during the sessions, if you ask me. Your drinking problem isn’t going to help your marriage last forever—as I said, she deserves better.”

Kris let out a squeak when Prewett sent his chair tumbling to the floor as he lunged at Andrew. Fortunately, Tommy and a bearded man who looked like he belonged on a Marc Jacobs billboard were quick enough to stop him. Kris felt Cam put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and he leaned into her touch instinctively.

“I have a gun,” Tommy announced loudly. “And I am not afraid to use it.”

“Sit down, Prewett,” Adam said sternly. “Have you actually talked to your wife about this?”

“Of course I did!” Prewett snarled. “But all she did was to defend the bastard! She said that they weren’t screwing around and that he was only being kind to her, but how can I believe her when she lies to me all the fucking time and keeps pushing me away to go back here?”

“Cale, go get Brad,” Adam sighed. “I feel that only he can fix this.”

“Are you sure, man?” the man next to Tommy asked. “We purposely left Brad out of this to avoid black eyes, claw marks and death by stiletto.”

“I’m certain,” Adam replied. “I’ve already wasted enough time on this deluded idiot; I was just about to have sex and he ruined the moment. I am terribly unhappy with him.”

“Go,” Tommy urged him pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I can handle him. If he so much as moves, I’m going to put a bullet in between his eyes and dedicate my work of art to you.”

“You’re sweet,” Cale grinned at him. “If he so much as lays a finger on you, shoot him where it won’t kill so I can finish him off when I come back.”

“Jesus, is everyone in this room a fucking queer?” Prewett spat out.

“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you for the past few minutes,” Cam muttered, keeping a firm grip on Andrew’s arm to stop him from punching the guy. “We all chase after people of our own sex, so you can be assured that Andrew never touched your wife.”

“And speaking of sex, you rudely intruded on me when I was about to have my fill,” Adam said idly. “I will allow myself the satisfaction of having Brad kick your ass before I go back to playing.”

The door burst open, and Cale returned with a livid-looking, extremely glittery Bradley Bell. Adam was the only one who looked quite pleased to see him. “Ah, Brad. Pleased to see you could make it.”

“Can somebody tell me why I wasn’t informed of this beforehand?” he asked frostily. “My boyfriend was in here being framed while I was drinking with Cook and Kris’ adorable little friends, and you chose to keep this from me?”

“It’s hard to cover up a murder, you know,” Tommy said shrewdly. “If you had ended up killing him, I’d have to come up with a highly convoluted story to keep you from going to jail. Adam, however, is mad that this guy’s presence is cockblocking him from having sex with his virgin bride, so here we are.”

“Hmph, I’m surprised that someone agreed to marry this idiot in the first place,” Brad simpered. “Sir, if my boyfriend was actually screwing your wife, I would have found out about this ages ago, and he would have been found bloody dead on the sidewalk.”

“Told you he was vicious,” Andrew smirked. “He has me wrapped around his little finger.”

“Got any plans of kicking him in the nuts?” Adam asked. “Because I won’t stick around for anything less than a modern-day episode of Game of Thrones—I have a boy of my own to take care of.”

“Go on ahead,” Brad grinned. “I’ll take care of this one and make sure he never sets foot into this club again. After all, there’s nothing we hate more than your standard cockblocker.”

“Indeed,” Adam agreed. “Come, Kris. I’m taking you home.”

“But I don’t want to go back to the dorms!” Kris protested, knowing full well he was behaving like a completely non-endearing brat. “And you can’t make me!”

“Oh, I’m not dropping you off, Kris.” Adam’s predatory smirk was back in place. “I’m taking you to mine.”

Kris bit his lip. “…oh. That’s kind of, uhm, sexy. You bossing me around and all.”

“Well!” Tommy exclaimed. “You’ve managed to get yourself a kinky virgin bride this time.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other in the car. Perhaps the alcohol had finally gone to his head or maybe it was because Kris had a secret kink for power tripping, but whatever the reason, he found himself enjoying the tonsillectomy Adam was currently administering on him in the passenger seat of his very shiny Ford Mustang.

“Fuck, I need to breathe.” Adam broke away with a grin, panting harshly into Kris’ ear. “For someone very inexperienced, you have quite an enthusiasm for being kissed, little hussy.”

“I’ve never really been kissed before, okay?” Kris mumbled. “Taylor and I used to try, but it was just too weird, you know? A hand job is nothing compared to a kiss; you don’t give away a piece of your heart when you give someone a hand job.”

“Oh, you precious hussy,” Adam sighed. “Look at you, red-faced and panting because you just let someone a little over than ten years your senior kiss the life out of you. Don’t you feel the least bit ashamed?”

“Don’t you?” Kris shot back. “I’m the one who’s underage here.”

“Do you have to rub it in?” Adam groaned, burying his face into Kris’ shoulder. “Of course I feel guilty. There must have been quite a number of perfectly fuckable, perfectly legal men out there tonight, but what did I do? Why, I seduced the underage boy my dear friend picked out for me!”

“I said yes, though,” Kris assured him. “I just want to stop being the model student everyone’s making me out to be. Sure, I do really well at school and in my extra-curricular activities, but it just gets so suffocating sometimes. Life at Fullbright has made me way too sheltered. I just wanted to taste the world.”

Adam’s hands were busy raking through his hair. “Well-played, darling. My boys rarely pull the sympathy card out of their decks—sorry, am I killing the mood?”

“Since you mentioned your ‘other boys’, yes.” Kris huffed. “Do that one more time and I won’t sleep with you ever, ever, ever again.”

“Somehow, you make me forget that you’re just a kid,” Adam grinned. “Come along now, I don’t want you to end up losing your virginity in the passenger seat of a Ford.”

“Here is fine,” Kris said without really thinking.

“We’ll save that for next time,” Adam promised him. “But for now, you deserve a nice warm bed with a hundred thread count sheets. I’ll make it so good for you, love.”

Terrified and shy as he was, Kris found the strength to believe him. He let Adam lift him up, disrobe him and lay him down on a soft bed strewn with pink and red rose petals. He let Adam kiss his way down his body, from his thick, puppy-soft hair (Adam said so) to the tips of his bare toes.

“You’re so beautiful,” Adam murmured in his ear. “Perfect skin, perfect ass, perfect everything. You were made for me, Kristopher Allen, and I’m going to show you just how perfect we can be together. I’m certain there will be many others that you will end up in bed with, but I want you to always remember your first time and how good it was. That way, you’ll carry a piece of me with you for the rest of your life.”

“Such a sap,” Kris said softly, pressing a kiss against Adam’s knuckle. “But you sure do have a way with words. If this were a TV show romance, I’d be bawling by now.”

He lay back against the headboard and allowed Adam to part his legs, fingers pressing down briefly on his pucker before fishing a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand drawer. This was something he recognized from porn, but he was still finding it difficult to reconcile with the idea that this was it—he was going to lose his virginity to one of Pittsburgh’s most eligible bachelors.

Never mind that Adam was nearly thirty and he was only seventeen.

“This is going to hurt, right?” he asked softly. “I mean, you’re like, huge. I don’t know how all that…cock is going to fit in my bum.”

“Now’s not the time to get all scientific on me, Kristopher,” Adam chided him. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re going to feel a little sting when I press in, but it’s going to get better, I promise.”

Nodding, he let his legs fall open again, squirming a little when he felt Adam’s finger slip past the tight ring of muscle. “It feels like all kinds of weird right now.”

“It does at first,” Adam replied, slowly drawing it in and out of Kris. “Have you ever tried touching yourself down here before? Some do it while masturbating.”

“I’ve gotten as far as two fingers,” Kris admitted, feeling his face heat up. “You doing it to me feels different, though. For one thing, your fingers are thicker than mine.”

“That’s because we’re prepping you up for something a lot thicker than my fingers, babe,” Adam said with a chuckle. “I’m going to put in another one, alright? Just try to relax.”

Kris squirmed when he felt the second finger push in, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion. It wasn’t something he disliked; he had found out early on that he liked having his ass played with when he had experimented with fingering after watching one of the pornos in his stash. He moaned a little when Adam crooked his fingers, touching that spot inside that made him feel all tingly.

“Ah, I see we’ve made progress,” Adam grinned, slipping in a third finger. “Come on, baby, open up for me—that’s it. You’re being such a good boy, Kristopher.”

Unable to hold in the keening noise that was threatening to escape his throat, Kris buried his face into his arm and whimpered loudly. He felt like he was burning from the inside, and the pain of having Adam’s fingers inside him was beginning to dull to a slight throb.  
“Fuck,” he moaned. “You have to put it in me now!”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Adam smirked, pushing in deeper with his fingers. “Feeling the urge now, sweetheart? Are these fingers not thick enough for you?”

“Need your cock,” Kris gasped, surprised at how loose his own tongue had become. “I need to feel it in me, Adam. I need to feel owned, possessed, fucked…”

“Oh dear, it looks like I have a slutty slut in my hands,” Adam said teasingly. “What should I do with you now? Tommy did say you were my virgin bride for tonight.”

“Fuck me,” Kris begged him, fucking himself shamelessly on Adam’s fingers. “I want your cock, Adam.”

“You really are precious, you know?” Adam said softly, brushing a feather-light kiss across his brow before withdrawing his fingers. “I could keep you.”

Kris watched beneath hooded lids as Adam rolled on the condom and slicked himself up with the lube, jerking his cock briefly before lining himself up with Kris’ entrance. He sucked in a mouthful of air as Adam breached his sphincter with the head of his cock, pushing in slowly but deliberately.

“Good?” he stopped to ask. “I know it hurts like hell right now, but you’ll be alright. Just…keep your hands on my hips, okay? I might get carried away and end up fucking you into the mattress.”

“I’m fine,” Kris whimpered. “As long as you go slowly, I’ll be fine.”

He wrapped his arms around Adam and buried his face into his neck, inhaling the traces of sweat, musk and expensive cologne. At that very moment, as Adam rocked into his body, Kris felt that if this man would ask him to stay, he would, undoubtedly so, say yes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“…I think I just flunked that final, man,” Taylor groaned, shoving his books into his bag. “Seriously, Cowell has no mercy whatsoever for his poor students who don’t memorize his specially crafted formulas. I’m going to wind up with a C+ in the report card and my mother will hate me.”

“Oh, she won’t hate you, Tay,” David said kindly. “People at Fullbright, smart as they are, get C’s all the time in some subjects. They sort of enjoy torturing us, so the occasional non-A’s are imminent.”

“Torture is right,” Allison agreed. “I’m just glad we won’t have anything to worry about for the next two months. Where are y’all going for summer? My folks have gotten into this teach-Allison-about-her-heritage mood, so we’re going to Latin America to meet relatives I have never met in my life.”

“Training camp for me,” Taylor announced. “Coach wants us to place first in Nationals next year, so we start training as early as now. She wasn’t very happy with placing second to Milton Academy. The kids there are so terribly terrible that I can’t even talk about alcohol without them cringing at me.”

“I’m flying back to Utah to rest for a bit,” David replied. “My parents said that as long as I spent the first month of the summer with them, I could spend the rest of it in here in Pittsburgh with Dave. Dad’s still a bit cranky about me dating someone much older, but they met with Dave and figured he was alright.”

“Cook’s far too nice to de-virginize you this early, anyway,” Kris said with a grin. “I do believe he’s the one gay man left on the planet with respect for people’s virtue.”

“Speaking of older boyfriends, how’s Adam?” Allison asked impishly. “He hasn’t stopped by in awhile, so I assume you two are doing something big for the summer. Spill, Allen.”

Kris ducked his head in an attempt to hide hid beet-red face from his friends. It had been almost a year since his run-in with Adam at Babylon, and somehow, from that one night they spent together, they had managed to build an actual honest relationship. They had definitely gotten off to a rough start; the age difference had been very difficult to handle because they were struggling to compromise. Somehow, though, they had found a way around the hurdles and had settled into a functional romantic relationship. Adam adored Kris dearly, and spoiled him by showering him with little presents and lavish getaways whenever he had the opportunity. For this year’s vacation, he had booked them a romantic getaway in Tahiti, where they would stay until they were scheduled to fly back to Arkansas to visit Kris’ parents.

“We’re going to Tahiti,” he confessed. “And after that, we’re going to visit my parents. I know he’s going to be great and all, but I’m still so paranoid. It’s not everyday you bring your boyfriend home to meet your parents for the first time; I’m getting chills just thinking about it.”

“Relax, man!” Taylor pulled him into a headlock. “You’ll be perfectly fine. If there’s anyone who’s smooth, it’s got to be that boyfriend of yours. Remember when he pulled up in front of the school in a vintage Maserati? The people went wild. You were the talk of the campus for days!”

“How could I forget?” Kris sighed. “He borrowed that thing from Cale to impress me.”

“He managed to end up impressing the school and drove Kris crazy instead,” Allison laughed. “But Tay’s right, your parents are going to love him. If he starts driving you crazy again, give us a call and we’ll crash your romantic getaways. He’ll end up having to babysit four high school teenagers. Fun.”

“You’d better get going, though,” David reminded him. “He called while you were in the bathroom, so I picked it up. He told me to tell you he was going to be here by five.”

“And knowing Adam, he’s going to arrive a few minutes early to make a good impression,” Kris sighed. “I really should drag my butt downstairs if I don’t want him to end up being ogled by all of Fullbright again. Let’s keep ourselves updated with each other via Twitter and texting, alright? I am seriously going to miss you guys; I’d rather have Taylor rolling over me and not crushing my ribs instead of Adam.”

“He’d better not kill you; I need my hermano back for next school year,” Allison said fiercely, giving him a tight squeeze. “You won’t have to worry about not hearing from me; I’ll be so bored while waiting out on our trip that I’ll be bothering all of you on a daily basis.”

“And I’ll be bugging you with stupid stories from camp,” Taylor added. “Milton Academy is going to be there as well, so I’ll tell you all about the weird people I run into there.”

“And you can be sure that I’ll always be around,” David beamed at him. “I’ll even send you postcards and stuff, I know you like collecting those things.”

“Oh god, we are having such a Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants moment right now!” Kris burst into a peal of giggles as they clung to each other in a group hug. “We should try to shop for something that fits all of us after the holidays—a jacket, maybe.”

“Okay, I’m letting go of all of you before I turn into a chick flick cliché,” Taylor chuckled, hoisting his duffel bag over his shoulder. “See y’all after summer!”

One by one, they drifted out of Kris and Taylor’s room with promises to call, tweet and text each other. Kris, who always made it a point to be the last to leave, locked the door behind him and made his way to the dormitory entrance. Adam, flashy as ever, was leaning against his Ford dressed in some weird thing that reminded Kris of a golden crocodile.

“What is with that jacket?” he asked, desperately trying not to laugh.

“It’s the latest in a new line of Zac Posen men’s wear,” Adam said airily. “And is that any way of greeting the dearly beloved boyfriend you haven’t seen in a week?”

“Probably not,” Kris conceded, rising on his tiptoes to press a quick kiss to Adam’s mouth. “Hi.”

Adam beamed at him, keeping his arms locked around Kris’ waist. “Hi yourself.”

“So, did you pack lightly?” he asked teasingly.

“Erm, well, I have three suitcases instead of five,” Adam said thoughtfully. “My shoes are a bitch to pack, so I needed an extra bag for them.”

“Figures,” Kris sighed. “I just have one suitcase and my backpack, so there’ll be tons of space in the car trunk for your stuff. Good luck remembering what you have in them, though. Remember the time when you left one of your makeup tubes in New York? You went berserk on the plane.”

“I made a checklist!” Adam said dramatically. “This time, I won’t forget anything. As long as no one asks if I’m your father or anything of the sort, I think I’ll manage to keep my temper.”

“Good,” Kris smirked, thinking of the extra supplies he had packed. “Because I refuse to vacation with a grouchy old man. But if you’re good, I may reward you with lots and lots of sex on the beach.”

“Promising,” Adam grinned roguishly at him. “Come on, we’re going to be late for our flight.”

Kris briefly paused to admire the setting sun as he helped Adam load his things into the backseat. A year ago, he would have laughed at the idea of becoming the sweetheart of one of the most notorious men in Pittsburgh. It only took a single glance at his man, who looked every bit the King in his expensive clothes and designer jewelry, to erase every single doubt he’d carried in when he stepped into Babylon for the first time. The King had always been a bit of a monster, but amazingly so, one of the many pawns on his chessboard had been worthy enough to make him stand aside and throw down his crown.

“Ready, my Queen?” Adam asked him, eyes bright with mirth.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Kris replied, meaning it with all his heart.


End file.
